


Limbo

by bccaw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Love, Redemption, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bccaw/pseuds/bccaw
Summary: For Severus Snape, death is even more lonely than life, until someone unexpected shows up.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 32
Kudos: 108





	1. Limbo

**Chapter One: Limbo**

Severus Snape was in purgatory. At least, that's what the Muggles would call it, Muggles like his Catholic father's family, who had disowned him long before he met the witch that would be his wife, Eileen Prince.

As a boy, Severus wished he'd been given his mother's family name. Not because his mother was a better example of a parent than Tobias had been, but because it would have amused him to be called to the Sorting as “Prince, Severus!” by McGonagall.

There was nobody else with him, in the strange place where he found himself after death welcomed him. He had stared into Potter's eyes, hoping to see Lily again on the other side. But no. It seemed his punishment in death was the same as his punishment in life: empty, unending loneliness.

He longed for another way to atone, anything to break up the boredom. Pain, torture, the legendary fires of Muggle hell... all would be preferable to a solitary existence on a spiritual plane that offered nothing in the form of entertainment or employment.

The worst part about being dead was that there was no magic. Severus supposed it would be impossible to perform magic with no physical matter on which to casts the spells. His attempts to work out the nature of his spiritual prison were fruitless.

He wandered through the limitless white expanse for a while in the same unfortunate body he'd inhabited in life. Eventually it faded until he was a disembodied consciousness. He still _felt_ as if he had eyes and arms and legs, even a beating heart. It must be a phantom sensation, so familiar in life that it was burned into his spirit.

Time did not exist here. How would it? Severus begged whatever unseen force had put him here to send him to another punishment, but there was no answer, only the oppressive silence.

“Oh, no.”

Two words burst into the unknowable expanse of emptiness with him, spoken by a voice he knew but could not quite identify. It took a monumental effort to focus his forgotten senses on the sound, which died quickly in the void. He wished he still had a voice to call out a response. That had gone a long time ago, or so he imagined. Time was meaningless here.

As he strained to sense the new presence the phantom awareness of his body turned to projection, and suddenly he was standing, turning, looking with eyes that squinted into the white beyond.

“Hello? Is there anybody here?” said the voice.

It was a woman's voice, but it reminded him of someone. A former student, perhaps, but names and faces escaped him.

“Yes,” he tried to say, but he was not used to having vocal chords. A strangled sound came from his throat. Perhaps he was a ghost now and would have to relearn how to communicate.

“Hello?” came the voice again.

“Yes!” he said, successfully this time.

“I can't see you,” she said. “Keep talking!”

The voice grew fainter as she spoke.

“Here,” he said. “I'm here. Where... where are you?”

“I don't know. I don't know, it's... so bright.”

Now she was closer.

“Whatever direction you've taken, continue that way,” he said. Hope was lifting his breath in his chest. He was suddenly aware that he was breathing again.

“You sound so close,” she said in confusion. “Why can't I see you?”

She did sound as if she was standing mere feet away.

“Perhaps because we are dead,” he said, that bit of hope in his chest wilting.

“What? I'm not dead... and neither are you.”

Severus laughed even though it was not the right response. The poor witch. His laughter was cut short, though, when a figure suddenly appeared as if stepping through a veil. The owner of the voice was indeed that of a former student – one that he remembered well.

“Severus Snape, you are _not_ dead,” she said.

He stared into the wide, earnest brown eyes of Hermione Granger.

“Then what...”

He could not form a thought, not with so many questions now clamoring for his attention.

“Then where...?” he asked incoherently.

Those wide brown eyes softened further and she nodded sympathetically.

“Oh, god, where do I begin?” she asked herself.

“How long?”

She appeared markedly older, which meant he'd likely spent a decade or more wherever this was, thinking he was dead.

“Fifteen years,” she said. “Since the Battle of Hogwarts.”

“I died,” he insisted. “I remember my death and so should you. As I recall... you were there with Potter.”

“Yes, I was there but you didn't die, Severus. Fawkes appeared and healed you.”

Severus stared at her in disbelief. He wanted to argue with her.

“But you didn't wake up, even once your wounds were gone,” she said. “The healers said you were in a coma. Harry refused to accept that you'd never wake up. We've spent years trying to figure out why Fawkes couldn't bring you back. For a while, I was sure your soul must have departed before the wounds were healed.”

“That seems the most logical conclusion,” he said.

“Yes, but then Harry found something. Dumbledore left him so many things, hidden in odd places. Harry's spent the past ten years on various quests to find them all. One of those things was an enchanted jewelry box. It seemed to have some kind of dark magic on it. Against my advice, Harry opened it. What do you think we found inside?”

Severus assumed it was something to do with him, but he was afraid to know the answer.

“Jewelry?” he asked.

“No. Some very odd things were inside. A vial of blood. Another vial that we discovered were phoenix tears. A lock of black hair enclosed in a pocket-watch... and a scrap of parchment with your signature.”

A strange feeling came over Severus as he listened to Hermione's description. What had Dumbledore done to him? What dark magic was this? Severus did not know it.

“How did you get here?” he asked.

“We wanted to know if our theory was right,” Hermione said. “We thought the box must hold your very soul. There were symbols on the outside that turned out to be ancient Mayan runes, and one of them is assumed to mean something like 'limbo'. Clearly there was Blood Magic involved, and with the addition of your hair and signature...”

“How did you get here?” Severus repeated urgently.

“If Dumbledore did this to you, he must have left a way to get you back,” she said, still ignoring his question. “But we couldn't figure it out. Harry spent the next years searching for more objects hoping one of them would be the answer. The answer never came.”

“Granger!”

She was startled.

“I haven't been called that in years. Call me Hermione,” she said.

“How are you here, in my limbo?” he asked.

She hesitated.

“It was very nearly Harry and not me, but I convinced him that the one of us without children should be the one to do it.”

“How?”

“I brewed a batch of the Draught of Living Death. Harry has the antidote. I added my own blood, hair, and signature to the box, then took the potion.”

Severus stared at her.

“Are you out of your mind?”

She shrugged in response and said, “You're not the first person to accuse me of it. Anyway. Harry will wake me up in an hour.”

“What did you hope to accomplish by joining me in limbo?” he wondered. She might be fifteen years older than he remembered, but she was still a reckless Gryffindor.

“I wanted to know if you were here.”

_You wanted to know if you were right,_ he mentally corrected her.

“Have you considered that you might not be able to leave?” he asked.

“Yes. But I don't think Dumbledore would have – ”

“You have no bloody idea what sort of things Dumbledore would do,” Severus interrupted.

“Why would he do this to you if not to save your life?” Hermione asked. “Surely he didn't mean for you to be trapped here forever. I know Dumbledore wasn't the paragon of morality people seemed to believe, but he wasn't vindictive. He wouldn't do this to anyone, especially not you... not on purpose.”

Severus agreed with her to a point.

“No, he wouldn't torture even an enemy – at least not by the time I knew him. However, Albus Dumbledore was a Gryffindor. Though magical folk often put too much stock in the Sorting Hat's wisdom, I can tell you that in spite of his extraordinary intelligence and magical abilities, the man took unnecessary risks and made reckless decisions, even in the midst of his meticulous planning.”

He sighed, recalling those moments again.

“It was... maddening.”

How angry Severus had been with Dumbledore after he gave himself an expiration date with that cursed ring!

“I can believe that,” she said. “It was wrong of him to do this to you without your consent.”

Severus wanted to laugh again. Making decisions for others without their knowledge or consent had been Dumbledore's favorite pastime. It seemed a game to him, manipulating people for the greater good.

“I am not surprised that he did,” he said.

They stood reflecting on the past together in silence, but it was not the same empty silence that had engulfed the white expanse around Severus for the past fifteen years. Fifteen years.

“Well. Do you suppose if we remove the items from the box, your soul will return to your body?” she asked. “Can it be that simple?”

“Likely not.”

She nodded and said, “I agree. We didn't try it yet because clearly something went wrong when Fawkes saved your life. I was afraid that if we removed the items from the box, you might die. I couldn't do that without asking you.”

Severus had no magic here and no ability to use Legilimency to try to determine her sincerity, but he suspected she was hiding something.

“So, what do you want us to do?” she asked.

“Try it.”

Hermione nodded again.

“All right,” she said.

She sat down. Severus joined her.

“How have you managed in here?” she asked. “You seem... so normal.”

“Time does not seem to exist here,” he said. “Were you expecting a madman?”

Her silence confirmed it. Severus sat staring at the blankness beyond them, not a thought manifesting itself to him.

“If it doesn't work...” she began.

He'd made his peace with death already. It did not matter the outcome of Hermione's efforts, so long as it got him out of this place.

“I'm prepared for either outcome,” he assured her, though it wasn't quite the truth. He was woefully unprepared to return to life. No matter – it was probably impossible.

“I just wanted to say, I'm sorry,” she said.

“For what?”

“I'm sorry we hated you,” she said.

“You were meant to.”

“I know, but I tell myself if I'd been at Hogwarts that year... maybe I would have realized you were actually protecting the students. I can't believe none of the other professors did. McGonagall, even.”

“She loved Dumbledore,” Severus said simply. “She was not the only one. It was impossible to see me as anything other than a murderer. That was the plan.”

Hermione sighed and pulled her knees toward her chest, hugging them. In that moment, she looked more like her younger self.

“Harry really wanted to talk to you. It took a lot to convince him to let me come here instead. He has so much guilt over how he acted toward you as a student. All while you protected him.”

“I keep my promises,” Severus said.

After a moment, he added, “Tell Potter he need not feel guilty. I genuinely despised him most of the time he was a student.”

Hermione laughed unexpectedly.

“That was obvious. I just meant, that Harry wishes he had learned to respect you sooner and perhaps made your life a bit easier. He has enormous respect for you now.”

“Tell me what happened after my death. How did Potter manage to survive?”

“You're not dead.”

“Not yet.”

Hermione rearranged her legs and turned her body toward Severus.

“Harry went to Voldemort after viewing you memories and he – sort of – died. Voldemort hit him with the Killing Curse, but Harry says he went to a place sort of like this, where he saw Dumbledore and they spoke for a while. The bit of Voldemort was there, too, all deformed and useless. Harry came back, and he was very lucky that Narcissa Malfoy lied for him and claimed he was dead. It gave him the element of surprise later.”

“Voldemort is dead, then?” Severus asked.

“He's gone.”

Severus sighed in relief and lay down on his back. Hermione did the same and the silence stretched on above them into the open white nothingness.

Uncountable moments later, she gasped and sat up.

“I think I'm waking up,” she said.

Severus climbed to his feet as she stood and stared down at her own hands, which were now translucent. She then looked anxiously at him.

“I hope I see you again,” she said.

With that, she threw her arms around him and said, “Goodbye.”

Severus could not feel her touch, not in the same way he would have in life, anyway. It was instead like a tingle of static electricity shimmering against him. Two souls touched briefly, before she vanished.

He remained in corporeal form once she was gone. It was nice to have his appendages back, and the sensation of a body again. Severus had never appreciated his body in life, as awkward and uncomely as it was from childhood into his adult years. Only when brewing potions or performing magic did he approve of it in any way – his hands were skilled and moved deftly through the required motions. His mind was sharp and focused, not like his thoughts in limbo. Here it was easy to stretch a thought into an eon, or so it seemed. Moods and anxieties were absent. There was a calm stillness to his being that he'd attributed to the acceptance of death. What would it be like, to be assaulted and swayed by the eccentricities of his mind and body again? He was not sure he welcomed the idea. Perhaps he hoped for death instead.


	2. Magic

**Chapter Two: Magic**

Severus did not notice the change when it started. His bodily form and spirit faded. It seemed his consciousness dipped below the surface of the void and suddenly he was looking at the emptiness as if underwater, desperate for a breath of air. Was this death?

No. Impossibly, the space around him grew brighter. It grew heavier. Then he blinked. Severus' eyelids shuttered the light momentarily, in a way that did not happen in limbo. He blinked again, and the blurry light above slowly slid into focus. The weight of his body – his real, actual body – pressed into a bed.

Severus' body held him down oppressively as he used his eyes for the first time in fifteen years.

“Harry! It's working!” whispered a voice.

Hermione's face appeared as she leaned over him. A long, curled wisp of hair reached toward him, suspended from her concerned face.

“Severus?” she asked.

“I'll get the healers,” said Potter. He sounded exactly the same as his teenage self.

“No...” Severus said, with a croak.

Potter's face swooped into view as well.

“Did he just say 'no'?” he asked.

“No,” Severus managed to say a bit louder.

“Okay,” said Potter.

“I can't believe it worked!” Hermione whispered, glancing behind them. “All this time and it was so easy.”

Severus lay blinking slowly up at them, enjoying the experience of air filling his lungs again. He had not even known that he missed breathing.

“Are you okay? Can you move?” she asked.

He lifted his hand with difficulty and clumsily touched her arm. His hand slid off and fell back to the bed after a moment.

“I'm so glad you're alive,” she said.

“So am I,” said Potter. “Ah, but I do think we should call the healers. Is that... all right?”

Severus nodded and lifted his other hand to Potter's arm.

“Wait.”

Willing his fingers to hold onto Potter's sleeve for a moment, he said, “Thank you.”

Potter left and Severus stared up at Hermione Granger's face, which still wore an expression of concern.

“Would you like some water?” she asked.

In seconds, she'd conjured up a glass of water with a straw and offered it to him. Severus was thirsty enough that he did not argue and allowed her to bring the straw to his lips.

“How do you feel?”

It was easier to speak after a few sips.

“Better,” he said.

It was true. With every passing moment his body felt lighter. He held his own hand up in front of his face and flexed his fingers a few times.

Potter returned with two healers who immediately began fussing over him and exclaiming their astonishment to see him awake. Hermione and Potter faded into the background. Severus was assisted into a reclined posture as the healers raised the bed. Hermione said something quietly into Potter's ear.

Once they were alone again, she stepped forward.

“We're going to leave you to rest. Is it...”

She hesitated.

“Shall we come back tomorrow?” she asked. “I'm sure you have a lot of questions. We can answer them. If you'd like.”

“Yes,” Severus said. “Tomorrow.”

They went away. Severus tried to acclimate to the sudden change in his existence. He pulled the blankets off his legs and was relieved to find that whether through magic or thanks to the care of the St. Mungo's healers, they were not atrophied from disuse. His body appeared much the same as it had before his 'death'. Fifteen years ago.

Eventually, he slept. The next morning the healers fussed over him again and proclaimed that his body and mind were in working order.

“We were able to keep your body in good shape, Mr. Snape,” said Healer Dickson. “However, your magic will be weak. It will come back to its full strength with time and practice.”

It was a side-effect Severus had not yet considered and his dismay must have shown clearly on his face.

Healer Dickson licked his lips and said, “There are potions that can help restore magical vitality for short periods of time, as I'm sure you already know...”

“Yes, but the side-effects are not worth the trouble,” Severus said.

“If you have difficulty practicing magic you may reconsider their worth,” said Dickson. “Getting over the mental hurdle of diminished magical ability can be the most challenging part of recovery for some.”

“Thank you, Healer,” Severus said dismissively. He did not expect to experience much difficulty regaining his magical strength.

  
Dickson left and another figure appeared in the doorway.

“Severus? May I come in?” she asked.

“Hermione. Come in,” he said, remembering just in time not to call her 'Granger'. She did not seem to appreciate it.

“Where's Potter?” he asked.

“Oh, he couldn't get off work. Something came up. I'm sure he is upset.”

Severus was not so sure.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked.

“Fine,” he said.

She walked slowly over to his bedside.

“What have you told them?”

“Only what they need to know,” Severus answered.

She nodded.

“When will they allow you to leave?”

“I plan to go home this evening,” he said. “ _They_ shall have no say in the matter.”

“So soon? I suppose if there's nothing wrong with you then you might as well be comfortable at home. It just seems inadvisable after such a long coma,” Hermione said.

She looked at him strangely, then moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You haven't asked about your wand,” she said. “Although I recall you occasionally performed little bits of Wandless Magic, so perhaps you don't need one?”

“I shall need a wand,” he said. “If I am to regain my magical strength.”

“You've lost it?”

“Not exactly. It is... weak. Magic, like muscles, requires regular use to maintain.”

“Yes, I know. I suppose I thought since the healers have kept your body in such good condition they must have ways of keeping up your magic as well.”

“Fifteen years of disconnect between soul and body is not something they could have fixed,” he said. “Even if they knew the truth.”

Hermione nodded again.

“Well, here it is,” she said, pulling his wand from her robe pocket. She held it out to him and it trembled slightly between them.

“Harry kept it,” she said. “He gave it to me years ago. Didn't want his kids finding it and messing with it. They get into everything.”

She smiled, presumably recalling memories of Potter's spawn. Severus took his wand from her hands and spun it a few times in his own fingers before pointing it away from her and giving it a curt flourish.

A thin, slow stream of green sparks flowed from the tip then disappeared into a puff of smoke. Severus hissed at the lackluster result in annoyance and dropped the wand to his lap.

“Might as well be a Squib,” he pronounced.

Hermione made a noise of disagreement and said, “That's not true. You're only out of practice.”

“Fifteen years out of practice. That's half a lifetime to you,” he said.

“A little less... but that's true. Are you afraid you won't get it back?”

He couldn't admit that to himself, much less to her, so he did not reply. Instead he stared at this older Hermione and suddenly wondered how old he must look now. He'd completely missed his forties while in limbo.

She appeared styled and put together in a way that her teenage self never would have managed, but Severus could not put a finger on what made the difference. It must be the sum of the parts – those frizzy curls and waves a bit tamer, her fitted robe a shade of muted deep blue that was more flattering than Gryffindor colors. Gone were those oversized striped Muggle jumpers she used to wear. A simple gold chain hung from her neck and disappeared under her robe. There was a bit of elegance in the way she moved now, where he recalled before the distracted, awkward clumsiness of a witch who often had a book in front of her face.

“You will,” she said and touched the hand that held his wand.

Reflexively, he pulled away from her and she apologized.

“Is there anything you want to ask me?” she asked, folding her hands in her own lap politely.

“Tell me about the school,” he said, after a moment. “Who survived?”

“Hogwarts is still standing and most of us survived,” Hermione said. “Remus and Tonks died. Harry and Ginny have practically raised their son, Teddy. He spends so much time at their home. There were a few student casualties... ah, including Fred Weasley. Lavender Brown. Colin Creevey.”

Severus waited, but she did not name anyone else.

“Draco?” he asked.

“He's alive,” Hermione said. “He has a son. Scorpius. He disappeared with his family for a while. His parents never returned to the country and he claims he does not know where they are now.”

“You seem to know him well.”

“I do. We work together at the Ministry.”

“Draco works? For the Ministry?”

She nodded and seemed to be amused by his surprise.

“He's going to want to see you as well. So many others will, too. Are you up to it?” she asked.

“No. Not yet. What is your position at the Ministry? Have you told anyone about me?”

There was a sharpness in his voice that he had not meant to put there, but she did not seem to be bothered by it.

“Nobody knows but Harry. I've sworn the healers to secrecy. Don't worry, Severus. You will get your privacy to recover. I even have a plan to get you out of here without being sighted.”

_She_ had a plan? Why did Hermione Granger think it was up to her to make plans for him?

“As for my position, I'm the deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Draco has taken my old job working on cases involving Magical Creatures.”

He was surprised and did not attempt to hide it.

“Harry is Head Auror,” she informed him. “The secret that you're back is safe with us, Severus. Take as long as you need to make your return.”

Perhaps he would never return at all. The idea of facing the world again seemed too much to bear.

“If it's all right, I'll take you home,” Hermione said. “It's either me or Harry, unless you want someone else to know you're awake.”

It would have to be her. Severus was not ready to chat with Potter. He wanted to argue that he could take himself home, but he knew he did not yet have the strength.

“Do you know my residence?” he asked.

“Harry saw it in your memories and... yes, we've been there. Harry's been looking after it while it was abandoned.”

“I see,” Severus said, a strange, uncomfortable feeling rising in his throat. “What is your plan?”

Smiling, she pulled the edge of something vaguely shimmery from her pocket. An Invisibility Cloak. He supposed that would work.

“You came prepared,” he said.

“I thought there was a chance you would rather be at home to recover,” she said. “Harry took your things from Hogwarts to your house years ago. Shall I go find you a robe?”

He was not about to climb out of the hospital bed wearing the short, thin white cotton shift that passed for clothing at St. Mungo's. He nodded.

“All right. I'll be back soon,” Hermione said.

He wondered if she'd taken the day off work just for his sake. Hermione left and Severus was alone again. The healers seemed to be afraid of him.

She was back within an hour, pulling one of his plain black robes from her pocket, which Severus realized must be fitted with an Undetectable Extension Charm. There was no room in the profile of her robe for pockets filled with cloaks and wizard's robes. It hugged her hips gracefully and flowed to the floor.

“I'll step out for a moment to give you some privacy,” she said. “I'll keep the healers out as well.”

Severus threw the hospital blanket off and was dressed within seconds. He began to feel a bit like himself again as he stood by the bed waiting for Hermione to come back into the room.

A few minutes later, the door opened a crack and her voice floated through.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” he said.

She stepped inside and smiled at him.

“There's the Professor Snape I remember,” she said. “You look almost exactly the same.”

Severus was not sure whether that was good or bad news.

“Here.”

She held the Invisibility Cloak out to him.

“You're taller than Ron. You'll have to crouch down so your feet don't show.”

Severus threw the cloak over his head and carefully arranged it over his body, bending his knees slightly to make the cloak meet the floor.

“Good,” Hermione said walking around him once to check that he was completely invisible. “Okay. Just stay close to me on the way out.”

Severus followed her as she walked confidently out of the room, waved to the healers, left the ward, took an elevator down to the main level, and exited the building.

“We'll go over there to Disapparate,” she whispered, pointing to a nearby alley.

When they were standing together in the narrow alley she said, “Take my arm.”

As much as he hated to rely on her magic to get home, there was nothing he could do about it. He slipped his arm through hers and they Disapparated to the house at Spinner's End.

Looking up at the dark row house, Severus shuddered. It was preferable to St. Mungos, but Spinner's End held no happy memories for him. Things long forgotten came flooding back to his mind. They went inside together and Severus returned the cloak to Hermione.

“Where did you get the cloak?” he asked, but she only smiled as she shoved it back into her pocket. The smile quickly faded as she looked at him.

“Are you all right? You've gone so pale...”

“I'm fine,” he said, looking around the entryway and peering into the sitting room lined with his books. The furniture was covered in dust cloths.

“I feel terrible leaving you here in this empty house when you haven't got your magic back yet,” Hermione said.

“I'll manage,” he said, but he was far less confident than he sounded.

“At least let me bring you some groceries,” she said. “Make a list for me.”

“I can do my own shopping,” he insisted. “This is a Muggle neighborhood. I won't be recognized.”

“That's too risky,” Hermione said. “Besides, do you have any Muggle currency?”

He did not.


	3. Reaching

**Chapter Three: Reaching**

Hermione insisted on helping him remove the dust covers and tidy up the house.

“It'll be faster with magic,” she said, and made quick work of it with her wand.

Then she left and returned with sacks of groceries and containers of takeout and refused to leave until he ate something. Severus told himself he was only humoring her because she saved him from limbo when he sat down at his old, scratched kitchen table with her to eat.

“You look better already,” Hermione said. “I bought chocolate for you. It may help with your magic. My parents were horrified when I told them that chocolate has magical healing properties for witches and wizards. They were dentists.”

Were? Severus did not ask.

“Thank you,” he said instead.

They ate in silence for a while.

“What made Hermione Granger decide to go into Magical Law?” he wondered out loud. “I assumed that one of the brightest witches to come out of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would pursue something more... academic.”

“You'll have to stop calling me that,” she said. “Everyone knows me as Hermione Weasley now. Though I do plan to change it back one day. It's just such a chore.”

“So you married Ronald Weasley?”

Severus did not know why he asked, but the words came out.

“Is the divorce recent?”

It was unusual for magical folk to divorce. There was a much greater stigma to the end of a marriage in the magical world than in Muggle society. She must be aware of it.

“No. Two years. Ron's remarried now with a baby on the way. I suppose it's just been easier to be a Weasley. Hermione Granger had some unfortunate encounters with fame after the defeat of Voldemort. It was nice to become someone else.”

“You said before that you have no children,” Severus said.

“No. Consequently, that's why I don't have a marriage,” she replied. “I decided I didn't want kids. Ron very much did.”

Severus wasn't sure what to say, so he only said, “That is unfortunate.”

“It was. Well. I feel better about leaving you here now.”

She stood and cleared her empty plate.

“Oh, I nearly forgot...”

Hermione reached into her pocket and placed something on the table in front of him. It was a Muggle coin, but not one that Severus recognized.

“It's charmed so that you can let me know if you need anything. Just hold it in your hand for a minute and mine will grow warm. I'll be here as soon as I can.”

She pulled the gold chain from under her robe to reveal an identical coin attached to it like a pendant. Severus wondered for whom the matching coins were originally created.

The house felt oppressively empty once he left. Severus had never minded it before. Spinner's End was not a place he wanted to bring guests, if he'd ever had the inclination to entertain. He went to the sitting room and ran his hands over the dusty spines of his books, recalling their titles and contents as he touched them. He had missed his books in limbo.

Severus pulled a book from the shelf and sat reading for the rest of the evening. Every time he turned a page he reveled in the act and felt a bit more certain that he was glad to be alive.

He was surprised that Hermione did as she proposed and left him alone. He had expected her to pop in to check on him within a day or two, perhaps to be sure he was still eating. Though not a mother, she exuded the energy of a worried parent toward him nonetheless. Before, Severus would have snidely rejected such attention, but now he found it amusing.

Magic remained just out of his grasp that week. He resisted pushing himself too hard for fear of making it worse. It would be a slow recovery. Severus did not have a sweet tooth, but he ate a great deal of the chocolate Hermione had left for him. Whether it was helping, he could not say, but he did feel stronger each day.

Finally, faced with an empty cupboard and still unable to perform even a Summoning Charm without becoming exhausted, he admitted defeat and held the charmed coin in his closed hand. It was a Sunday morning and he hoped she would not be too inconvenienced.

A minute later, perhaps less, there came a knock at the door.

“It's me,” she called, as he approached the threshold.

“Hello! How are you?” she asked as soon as he pulled it open.

“Fine,” he said.

“Oh, good. I was worried since I hadn't heard from you all week. Do you have any food left?”

She stepped inside and pulled a knit cap off her head, causing her hair to tumble out over her shoulders as the words tumbled quickly from her mouth. Severus closed the door, blocking out the chilly breeze that had crept in alongside her.

“Enough for today,” he said.

He hated that he was forced to rely on her charity.

“I thought you must be low by now,” she said. “Make a list and I'll pop out to the supermarket for you.”

Severus wordlessly handed her the list he'd already made.

“Ah, wonderful. Well. I'll just... be back,” she said, beginning to gather her hair back and shove it into her cap again.

“Thank you. I shall repay you,” he said.

“That's not necessary. I feel I owe you this at least. We all owe you our lives,” Hermione said.

That seemed a dramatic statement, but Severus let it go.

“I seem to recall that you are proficient at brewing Polyjuice Potion,” he said.

This surprised her.

“I... ah, yes. I've brewed it a few times.”

“With a little Polyjuice I could do my own shopping,” he said.

“I suppose you could.”

She left and returned with more groceries for him, sending them flying neatly into the cupboards with a spell before he could put them away.

“So...”

She trailed off, rethinking whatever she was about to say.

“What?” he asked.

“You haven't had much luck practicing magic? Did the chocolate help at all?”

“A bit. I managed a weak Summoning Charm yesterday.”

“That's good!” she said.

“It is... a start,” he conceded.

She had a look on her face as if trying to work out a complicated equation in her head.

“Is there anything else you need before I go?” she asked.

He rather suddenly realized that he did not want her to leave.

“Stay,” he said. “Allow me to thank you with a meal.”

“Oh...”

“Unless you already have plans,” he said.

“No, I don't. Of course I'll stay.”

Hermione sat at the kitchen table and Severus began to prepare lunch from the groceries she'd brought.

“I never would have imagined I'd be sitting here watching you cook,” she said. “It's strange, how different you are. I can't wrap my head around it.”

She seemed to realize the implication of her words and added, “I'm sorry. I hope I haven't offended you.”

“Not at all,” he replied. “The person I was – the man who died disappeared somewhere in that limbo. He – I – was at peace with death.”

“What did you make of it? An empty afterlife?” Hermione wondered.

“Are you familiar with the Muggle concept of purgatory?”

She nodded and he looked away from the pity in her eyes.

“I assumed I was there to improve the state of my soul,” he said.

He returned his attention to the vegetables he was slicing with the same precision he used in the potions lab. She watched him silently until he moved to the stovetop to work.

“If you'd like, I'll pop down to the corner store and get us something to drink,” she said. “Ah, do you drink?”

He assured her that he did and in ten minutes' time she returned with bottles of some dark brew. She opened two and placed one on the counter next to him.

“I think the strangest part of all of this is that – well, you look as if you haven't aged a day somehow. You must have been, what, thirty-eight when you went into limbo?”

Severus nodded slightly and Hermione continued, “It's so odd, to have known you before as a student, and all of sudden we're practically the same age.”

“We are not,” he said dismissively.

“Do you feel older?” she asked. “You really don't look any older.”

“That doesn't change the fact that my body was in a bed aging, however slowly, for fifteen years while my soul was stuck in limbo.”

She hummed in what might have been disagreement but fell silent until they sat down together to eat.

“Have I made you uncomfortable with my questions?” Hermione asked.

“No.”

Uncomfortable was Severus' natural state of being now as he adjusted to living in the flesh once again. He knew that his former self would have found her presence unwelcome and her questions intrusive, and would have bluntly let her know it. Former-Severus was no stranger to loneliness and used it as shield from the pain of inevitable betrayal. However, after fifteen years languishing in limbo totally and truly alone, Severus had newfound appreciation for human connection.

“You've gone back to limbo on me,” said Hermione.

Severus looked up from his plate and saw her smiling at him playfully. A long-forgotten ache filled his chest. A whisper in his thoughts brought images of the last time someone had looked at him with such an expression.

“There is no food in limbo,” he said, lifting his fork.

“Did you miss it?”

“Not food. I wished for a bottle of firewhiskey more than a few times.”

She smiled again, this time thoughtfully, and Severus briefly tried to reach out with his magic to discern the nature of those thoughts, before remembering he no longer had the ability.

“It was magic that I missed the most,” he said, and it came out with more bitterness than he intended.

“You _will_ get it back,” Hermione said. “I'll help you.”

He nearly laughed.

“How?”

“I don't know, but I'm sure there's research out there that could help. I'm going to the library anyway this afternoon. I'll bring you some texts.”

She left to that end a short while later and returned that evening. Severus opened the door to find her standing with her arms folded, breath coming in great white puffs in the night air.

“You've returned empty-handed,” he observed.

“I have not,” she said, stepping inside.

She lifted a small bag from under her heavy cloak and patted it.

“I found a lot of reading material for you,” she said. “In fact, I even had to put two of my own books back because I was at the borrowing limit.”

“I appreciate the sacrifice,” he said, and he meant it even though it came out with sarcasm.

She walked into the sitting room and plopped the bag down on the end table before she opened it. As she began pulling books out, large tomes that could never have fit inside without magic, Severus moved to inspect the titles on the spines.

“ _A Healer's Journey,”_ he read. “ _How to Magick a Squibbe._ Are these texts or fairytales?”

“They're the firsthand accounts of ancient healers,” Hermione said. “I know it seems unlikely they'll have anything useful in them, but you never know what can be gleaned from such sources. They might not have had all of our current knowledge or classifications of magic, but they were healing people and experimenting with great success.”

“According them them,” Severus said. “There were so few healers at the time, who could prove them wrong? Most of magical society was illiterate back then.”

“Don't worry, there are more practical texts here for you as well,” she said.

As she spoke, she placed a thinner, less worn book down on top of the stack. No sooner did it leave her hand, did she snatch it back and put it into the bag again.

“Well, that's all I found,” she said.

Severus stared at the tall stack of texts on the end table and said, “That's all?”

“I'll see what else I can find at the Hogwart's library,” she said seriously.

He fought the urge to laugh at her earnestness as she stood next to a tower of books almost as as tall as herself.

“What did you put back in the bag?”

To his surprise, a pink flush appeared on the small amount of skin that was showing above her collar He would have missed it if her hair was not tucked up into her hat.

“Just a bit of light reading.”

“What does Hermione Granger read for fun?” he asked, reaching toward the bag as if to retrieve the book himself.

She snapped the bag shut and it disappeared under her cloak again.

“None of your business,” she said, and despite her haste in hiding the book away from him, she smiled. Instead of moving away she leaned toward him in a teasing manner as she spoke.

A shift of perspective occurred in Severus' mind at that moment and he wished more desperately for his powers of Legilimency to return.

“I suppose I should go. Enjoy your reading,” she said.

Hermione did not move from the spot and seemed to be waiting for him to say something. She did not want to leave, he realized. The idea was so improbable to Severus that he could not think of what to do about it. After a few moments of silence, she stepped away and tugged her cloak tighter around her shoulders in preparation for the cold outside.

“You aren't going to help with the research?” he asked.

“As we've established, I have my own reading to occupy me tonight,” she said. “But of course I plan to help you. Shall I come back tomorrow night?”

“If that is convenient to you,” he said.

“It is.”

“Very well.”

“Now, _that_ sounded more like Severus Snape. You know, you never would have asked for help before, especially not from me.”

“Ask for help from a student? I can't think of a circumstance in which that would have been necessary,” he said.

“I meant, ask for help from a Gryffindor. You did hate us so.”

He shook his head slightly.

“I did not.”

“You did a very fine job pretending, then,” she said.

“It is rather easy to convince children you despise them,” Severus admitted. “It was by far the easiest part of the act.”

She nodded and said, “We must have made it too easy at times. Especially Harry.”

Severus did not want to be thinking of Potter in that moment and he redirected the conversation.

“If you had been in another year or another house, you might have found my classes less... traumatizing. You might have even been my star student.”

“No, it's better that I was not,” Hermione said. “It was good for me to struggle to impress you. Not that I ever did... but I tried. I'm sure it was painfully obvious.”

It was, but he did not confirm it.

“I hated it at the time, but I needed someone to treat me like I was a normal teenager, not some kind of mature prodigy or Harry's keeper. I can't believe Dumbledore gave me that Time Turner in my third year. That was... reckless.”

“To say the least,” Severus agreed. “I tried to talk him out of it.”

She nodded and her pleasant expression fell suddenly. Severus frowned in concern. What horrible memory of his past persona was she recalling now?

“Perhaps we should not speak of the past,” he said cautiously. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. I was... just thinking.”

About what? Severus wondered, irritated that he had no ability to sense it whatsoever.

“I have to go give Crookshanks his dinner,” she said.

“That creature you kept as a familiar while a student? It's still alive?”

“Yes, he is! And he's sure to be cross with me if I'm late.”

Hermione lifted her arms slightly in an odd sort of shrug and let them fall to her side.

“I'll see you tomorrow after work.”

Severus held the door open for a minute after she stepped outside and Disapparated. What had just happened? By the next evening he'd convinced himself that she was simply a do-gooder Gryffindor who wanted to help him only out of misplaced moral obligation.


	4. Research

**Chapter Four: Research**

Hermione returned the next evening, bringing a full spread of food with her, packed into her charmed bag in a neat stasis bubble. She began placing dishes of what appeared to be fine cuisine on the coffee table.

“This was not necessary,” he protested.

“Severus,” she said, pulling a bottle of wine from the bag and holding it aloft, “If we are going to spend the evening squinting at dusty old books we might as well have something nice to eat and drink... and if it makes you feel better this has been my Monday night tradition since the divorce. I'd be doing this without you tonight anyway.”

He did not argue further and allowed her to pour him a glass of wine. They began their research, drinking and grazing from the decadent dishes on the coffee table as they read. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the shelf and the turning of pages. After a while, she stood up to stretch and refilled her glass.

“I meant to ask you yesterday whether you have a place to brew here,” she said.

“I've used the cellar in the past, but it is not ideal,” Severus said.

“Well, I suppose it will do if I'm going to make Polyjuice Potion,” Hermione said. “My flat doesn't have the space.”

“Neither does the cellar, but I made some modifications that make it possible.”

“Can I see it? I need a break from this.”

Severus did not particularly want to show her the dark, dank cellar that was sure to be full of spiders and cobwebs, but he carefully marked his place in his book and rose from the sofa.

The cellar was just as cramped and dark as he remembered, but Hermione seemed happy enough to work there.

“Do you have a brewing setup here or shall I bring mine?” she asked. “I haven't brewed anything in years.”

“Neither have I,” Severus said.

He was standing at the top of the narrow stairs. Hermione turned around and began to climb back up, her lit wand in front of her. She extinguished it as she neared the doorway.

“It will take me a while to get the ingredients,” she said. “I'll have to go see Neville.”

“Longbottom?”

“He teaches Herbology at Hogwarts now,” Hermione said. “He's good friends with Professor Gilbert, who teaches Potions.”

“Gabriel Gilbert?”

“I believe so.”

“I see.”   
  
“You don't approve?” she asked.

“Perhaps he's honed his craft over the years,” Severus said.

Hermione laughed and said, “You don't approve.”

“I can neither approve nor disapprove until I've seen his recent work.”

“The students love him.”

“ _That_ is often a poor indication of the quality of instruction,” Severus said.

She laughed again and squeezed past him out of the doorway.

“Your instruction was of such a high quality that it remained above the heads of most of your pupils,” she said. “Even I found it challenging.”

“Even _you_? The infamous swot? The ruler by which every remarkable student was measured for years to come?”

“Stop! You know what I meant.”

“I think that is exactly what you meant.”

There was a blush on her cheeks, perhaps from the wine.

“We should get back to our research,” she said.

Severus followed her back to the sitting room.

“Shall I play some music while we read?” she asked.

“If you must,” he said.

He watched her, waiting to see whether it would be a Muggle or magical device she pulled from her charmed bag. Instead of removing anything, she pointed her wand into the opening of the bag and music began to waft out into the room. He wondered if she always listened to classical music or if she assumed he would find it the least offensive option.

Severus became lost in his reading for the next hour, until Hermione suddenly straightened and began reading more intently with a creased brow. He watched her for a minute.

“Have you found something?” he asked.

“Mmm... no.”

She sighed and carefully put the book aside, leaving it open to the page.

“Have you?” she asked.

“No.”

Hermione stood and stretched, then picked up her book and came to sit on the opposite end of the sofa. She poured the last of the wine into her glass and resumed reading. A short while later, she closed the book and leaned back against the sofa, letting her eyes fall shut.

“I think I'm done for the night,” she said, before yawning.

It wasn't late. Severus wondered if her hours at work were responsible for her sleepiness or the glasses of wine.

“I'll come back tomorrow,” she said.

Her eyes were still closed. His first thought was that she needn't return to Spinner's End to help with the research – she could easily take the book with her. He did not say so.

“If you like,” he said.

She did not reply right away, but after a deep breath mumbled, “I do.”

Severus watched with fascination as she dozed off and her head craned backward over the top of the sofa cushions. Her face was still slightly flushed.

After a minute or two of watching her drift to sleep, Severus cleared his throat loudly. Her head snapped up and she blinked at him.

“The wine seems to have gone to your head,” he said.

“I apologize, Severus. I barely slept last night and it's catching up with me now.”

She sat up and ran her hand through her hair, which only served to make it a bit messier.

“I suppose I should go home and turn in early for the night,” she said, looking at the books in front of them regretfully.

“You can't Apparate,” he said. “You can barely keep your eyes open.”

“Oh, I'll be fine.”

“I won't have you splinching yourself on the front stoop,” he replied.

“I'm not going to splinch myself. I've been Apparating successfully for nearly twenty years now. I could probably do it in my sleep.”

She began making her way to the front door as she spoke. Severus followed her and put his hand over her winter cloak before she could take it from the hook. She looked at his hand, then at him.

“Did you know there have been numerous recorded cases of magical folk Apparating in their sleep? Just like sleepwalking?” she asked. “None of them ever got splinched.”

“You aren't sleepwalking. You are tipsy and sleep-deprived,” he said.

“I'm am not tipsy.”

He regarded her skeptically for a moment.

“Perhaps some strong tea would help,” he said.

“All right. I'll have some tea before I go. Thank you.”

Cautiously, he removed his hand from the coat rack and backed away toward the kitchen.

“I'm going to finish the section I was reading while I wait,” Hermione said, returning to the sitting room.

When Severus walked in with the freshly brewed tea he found her asleep, slumped against the arm of the sofa with the book open against her chest.

Instead of waking her again, he sat reading and drinking his tea until she shifted and made a soft sound of annoyance. She pushed at the book until it slid off of her body. Severus reflexively moved to catch it before it hit the floor. He was holding a heavy tome in one hand, bent over the sofa, as she opened her eyes with a start.

“I fell asleep,” she stated.

Severus quickly placed the book on the coffee table and moved away.

“Indeed. Your tea is cold. You'll have to cast a warming spell,” he said.

She did and sat sipping her tea in silence.

“Thank you. I feel much better. So...”

She stood.

“I'll see you tomorrow.”

This time Severus did not try to stop her, despite wishing he could find a reason to do so. What was wrong with him? He must regain his magic soon and get out of the house.

He stayed up late reading that night and slept in far later than usual in the morning. He passed the time until Hermione returned by practicing with his pathetically weak magic, taking breaks for tea and chocolate. By the time Hermione arrived, he was in the sitting room with no less than seven books open and spread out across the coffee table, trying to distract himself from the frustration of failing to levitate the clock from its shelf. It continued to tick at him as if mocking his lack of ability.

Hermione knocked and opened the door before he could get up.

“Severus?”

She looked into the room, shrugging off her cloak and removing her gloves.

“It looks like you've been at this for a while already,” she said.

“On the contrary, I spent most of the day attempting magic.”

“Oh? How is it going?”

He shook his head slightly at her.

“I'm sorry to hear it.”

She sat down and opened yet another book. Severus stood.

“Do you care for dinner?” he asked.

“Ah... sure,” she said.

Severus cooked and Hermione researched. They ate together in the kitchen, leaving the books behind.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Good. Long, but good,” she said. “No catastrophes, which is always a good day at the Ministry.”

Once they returned to the sitting room and took up their books again, Severus found that he was unable to concentrate. His mind drifted from self-doubt to Hermione and back again, returning only briefly to the words on the page in front of him.

“Here's something,” she said, crossing the room to come sit beside him. The heavy book teetered in her palm as she held it between them and pointed to a section of the text.

“ _The wizard's magic was weak after surviving a near-fatal dose of The Sleep of the Saints, not to mention the bodily harm caused by the physical torture he endured at the hands of his captors. Even once his wounds and bones and sinews were healed, his magic remained of the lowest strength, like that of a man still on the verge of death. After several months, a regimen of regular practice – at least four hours a day – and a tincture laced with powdered pixie wings and the yolk from the egg of a golden goose, his magic began to return. His full strength was regained soon after, when his brother managed to procure the tears of a phoenix. Upon placing a drop on his tongue, his magic was restored to it's previous strength._ ”

Hermione stopped reading and lowered the book. One side of the cover rested on Severus' leg.

“Hardly helpful information,” Severus said. “Phoenix tears healed me once already and yet I am without magic.”

“You're not without it, just weak,” she said softly. “If only the spell Dumbledore used on the limbo box had not disappeared the contents once your soul was restored to your body. They're gone.”

“It doesn't matter. This account was written so long ago, it is likely the phoenix tears mentioned were nothing more than water sold by a traveling false apothecary. They were far more common than true apothecaries at the time.”

“I'm sure there are other ways to speed up the return of your magic,” she said.

“It may never be what it once was,” Severus said.

“Don't say that – don't think like that or you'll just become a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

As she spoke she reached over the book and placed her hand over his. Severus stared at their hands.

“Why do you care?” he asked.

“Why shouldn't I care?”

“As you've said, I was particularly nasty to you and your friends. Why did you risk getting stuck in limbo to save me?”

“I... wanted to help you.”

“It was a reckless thing to do. At your age, you should have known better.”

Hermione's fingers tightened around his.

“Well. I _am_ a Gryffindor. You never grow out of that, it seems.”

The warmth of her hand left his and before he could reflect on the deep sense of loss it left behind, she touched his shoulder.

“Severus.”

He looked at her and there was a question written on her face, one that he could not believe was really there. He slowly reached for her. Hermione leaned forward and planted her lips firmly against his. The book fell off their laps and hit the floor as she moved closer. Severus awkwardly held her, unsure of what to do next. He _wanted_... but that was a terrible idea.

“Severus? Is this...?”

He kissed her back, though not with the confidence he wished to have in the moment. She did not seem to mind.

“Can I stay tonight?” she asked.

He was speechless, having never been propositioned so before. His hesitation was not lost on her. Severus saw uncertainty grow in her eyes.

“I've never done this before, you know.”

Severus raised a skeptical brow at her.

“I mean... I've never been this forward before.”

She fidgeted with her fingers and leaned back. Severus pulled her back for another kiss, this one acceptably smooth.

“Stay.”

After uttering that word, he was overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. It silenced the voice in his head whispering that he was not prepared, that it had been too long, that he was going to ruin this moment somehow.

He pulled away from her mouth and kissed her neck. She hummed in pleasure, the delicate skin under his lips vibrating. She leaned back on the sofa and pulled him down over her. As they continued to snog, her hands fluttered under his chest – she was unbuttoning her blouse. Severus' trousers, already uncomfortably confining, strained against him.

Severus touched one breast, still partially hidden by delicate lace, then bent to kiss her warm, impossibly soft skin. She arched up toward him and moved her lower body against him as she slipped her hands down to unbutton the Muggle trousers she was wearing. She allowed him to rub his thumb over her nipple for a moment, then grabbed his wrist.

He let her to guide his hand down her body to her knickers, which were equally as lacy as her bra. Had she planned this? She encouraged him to explore further with his fingers.

That was how Severus ended up shagging Hermione on the sitting room sofa, surrounded by piles of thick, old books in the flickering light of the oil lamp on the coffee table. As predicted, after nearly thirty years without touching a woman, between limbo and his largely abstinent years of life, he did not last long. However, it was enough. Afterward, she disappeared into the loo and Severus sat in blissful disbelief, wondering what he was supposed to say to her when she returned.

“Do you want to keep researching?” she asked, walking back into the room.

Severus stood and picked up the book that was on the floor.

“What else did you have in mind?” he asked.

“A shower. Would you like to join me?”

He was speechless once again. She smiled.


	5. Hypothesis

The next morning, Severus woke to find that Hermione was still in his bed and that the previous evening had not been a strange dream.

“Don't you have to work?” he asked.

“Mmm... I think I'll take a personal day,” she said. “I never take time off. Not since... well, not for a few years.”

Not since her marriage ended.

“I was going to sleep in, then go home and owl to let them know I'll be out of the office today,” she said. “However, since you're up...”

She scooted closer and touched his chest. Watching him as if waiting for a rebuke, she began to trail her hand down his body. Severus had no desire to stop her.

He let her stroke him for a moment before he rolled over on top of her body. Her breasts pressed lightly against his chest, two soft mounds of warmth hovering above the intense heat between her legs. Severus ground his hips against her, teasing her. She moaned wantonly, and he nearly came from the surprising sound of it. Better not tease her long this morning, he decided.

“Severus?”

“Yes?”

“You don't have to be so gentle with me.”

He refrained from informing her that his gentle approach had nothing to do with a fear of hurting her, and everything to do with wishing to prolong the encounter for her benefit.

“Mmm...”

Severus echoed her approving hum. Her hand moved down to their joined bodies and she touched herself. After she came, she looked at Severus and the moment her eyes locked onto his, he was gone. She held him there briefly with her legs afterward, then let him roll off to lay beside her.

“I'll have to go send that owl soon,” she said.

“Indeed.”

“Shall I come back and help you research for the day?”

“That's how you wish to spend a day off?”

“Well. I can think of a few other things we could do to pass the time,” she said.

She sat up and vacated the bed. She disappeared to the loo and reappeared fully dressed.

“I'll be back soon.”

Severus went to the kitchen for breakfast and a cup of tea. He felt good, better than he had yet felt since coming out of limbo. Once sitting down with his tea, Severus saw his forgotten wand lying on the table in front of him. This morning it did not seem to taunt his inadequacy as it had been all week.

He picked it up and imagined he felt a previously missing connection with the old thing. Perhaps he should get a new one. It was not inconceivable that his soul was enough changed after fifteen years away from his body that the wand no longer met his needs.

Severus pointed the wand at the kitchen sink. After a moment, he flicked it at the faucet. To his surprise, water immediately began running with such pressure that it began spattering onto the floor. He quickly turned it off with another effortless flick of his wand.

His cup of tea forgotten, Severus stood up and began to summon and levitate various objects in the room. He was smiling to himself in delight like a first-year student in Charms class when Hermione returned to the house.

She didn't knock but Severus did not mind. He waited for her to find him as he continued to levitate a tea cozy, cup, candle, and jar of spices. They were all wafting happily mid-air as if in a dance when she walked in. Severus was aware that he must be smiling stupidly at her as she paused, gasped, and clapped her hands together once.

“Severus!”

He gently directed the objects back to their spots. No sooner had the tea cup clinked down on the saucer, did Hermione pull him into a hug.

“How did this happen? Yesterday you claimed you couldn't summon a book from a few feet away.”

“I don't know,” he said. “I picked up the wand and it felt different today. Better.”

“You don't think...? No, that can't be it.”

She let go of him and crossed her arms, studying him like a zoo animal.

“You don't suppose it was...?”

“The sex?” he asked.

She laughed.

“Well, yes. But that can't be it. I've never heard of such a thing.”

“Perhaps you did not consult the right books,” he said.

“You can't be serious.”

He looked her up and down, then replied, “I can.”

“Oh, all right. Then explain your theory to me.”

He had no theory, just a feeling.

“You are clearly in possession of a magical cunt,” he said.

Hermione burst out laughing.

“Well... I _am_ a magical being, so I suppose that statement holds up,” she said. “However, I don't believe it has any such healing properties.”

“Shall we continue to test the theory?” he asked.

“I'd like that, but first... why don't you try something more challenging than levitation? We'll compare your success before and after.”

She grinned and waited, presumably for him to cast a spell. Severus lifted his wand and attempted to transfigure one of the kitchen chairs into a cushioned armchair. All he managed to produce was a loud creak of protest from the wooden seat.

“Was that it?” she asked, looking at the chair. “What were you trying to do?”

Severus did not tell her. Instead, he put the wand away and looked down at her. It did not take long for that playful look to leave her eyes. They returned to the bedroom.

Severus felt odd afterward, as if he was experiencing something out of order. He was far past the age for such behavior. Severus was still in limbo at Spinner's End, waiting to begin living in the real world again. Hermione was a welcome distraction, but they were acting like hormone-addled teens. Severus had never experienced such a thing, but he'd heard all about the sexual exploits of his peers while at school.

“Now try to transfigure something,” Hermione said.

She was lying on her side next to him with her eyes closed, her chest still flushed and her lips still a deep shade of pink. He did not reply but after a minute he climbed out of bed and pulled on his pants and trousers. Wand in hand, he looked around the room. Hermione sat up halfway to watch.

Severus pointed his wand at the wardrobe and heard the rustling of bedsheets as Hermione rearranged herself for a better view.

With a curt flourish, magic burst forth from his wand and the wardrobe's dimensions changed as it grew plush upholstery padding. A second later, they were both staring at a comfortable black armchair complete with a white crocheted afghan neatly folded over the back.

“Is that what you were trying to do to the kitchen chair earlier?” she asked.

“Indeed.”

“Severus, that's wonderful! Let's see if it's a solid transfiguration...”

She slipped off the bed and went to inspect the chair. Severus watched her naked arse as she went and tried to hide the smile that formed on his lips when she turned around, met his eyes, and sank down into the chair. She managed to look somehow regal, with crossed legs, arms draped over the armrests, breasts on full, proud display. Her hair was still half-way tied up despite many long curled strands escaping to frame her face and cascade over her shoulders.

Hermione smiled as he stared.

“I think your theory is right, Severus.”

Severus would not remain in limbo much longer. Their research foregone for the rest of the week, Hermione returned each evening with food and drink. There was no longer an excuse for Severus to stay hidden away at Spinner's End; his magic was nearly as strong as ever.

“The real test will be if you can still fly unsupported,” Hermione said over breakfast Saturday morning.

“I'm not doing that,” he said.

“Why not? It's amazing.”

“What if someone should happen to see me? I'd be thrown in Azkaban, assuming I wasn't cursed out of the sky.”

“We'll go somewhere you won't be seen,” she said.

“We?”

“Yes, I want to watch,” she said, smiling at him.

Her smile was now a familiar sight.

“I don't think so,” he said, and watched the smile fade into disappointment.

“Oh. All right.”

Severus did not want to explain – he wasn't sure that he could. The thought of flying again, let alone with her watching, was unpleasant. However, now that she had said it he also knew he would have to try. She was correct that it would be the best way to test his magical strength.

“Well, I should go meet Harry and Ginny,” Hermione said. “I don't want to be late for the party.”

More unpleasantness pushed at Severus' thoughts. It was one of Potter's children's birthdays, and Hermione would be joining the celebration for the rest of the day.

“I'll see you tomorrow?” she asked.

“If you like.”

“No, if _you_ like...” she said, standing up to clear her plate. “This is your home. You can tell me if you need some time to yourself.”

“This evening will suffice,” he said.

“One day, perhaps you'll come visit Harry with me,” she said.

Severus did not think so. He was still unhappy with the idea that as soon as he made his official reappearance into the world Potter would want to talk to him.

“Perhaps.”

Once she was gone the house felt like a cage. Severus had been practicing Apparition inside the house for a couple of days. After a few hours of restless attempts at reading and much pacing, he decided to Apparate to the Forest of Dean and do as Hermione suggested.

Fly.

A moment later he stood amid the trees listening for the unlikely sounds of other humans nearby. To be safe, he Disillusioned himself. Severus did not know how long he stood, Disillusioned, listening to the quiet stillness of the forest, but eventually he felt ready to try flying. The forest here was old and the trees large and far enough apart that he would be able to navigate them easily without the need to rise above the canopy.

It was the first time Severus had flown for the pure joy of it. He'd never liked broomstick flight, and when he had learned the spell from the Dark Lord he had not used it unless absolutely necessary. Now that the Dark Lord was gone, perhaps he could learn to love flying.

He started that day with short bursts of flight, and after a while it was exhilarating. He grew tired quickly. After a near miss with a tree branch, he stopped and returned home.

The high of flying wore off immediately. Severus sat in his dark kitchen eating a sandwich with the lights off. For the first time since his soul was reunited with his body, Severus fell into a dark mood. The memories of life before limbo suddenly seemed nearer and imposed themselves into his thoughts. He fought the sensation of not being in his own body, but a stranger's.

What was he doing? This thing with Hermione... it could not continue once he returned fully to the world. He wanted a quiet life. He wanted no obligations, social or otherwise. A relationship with the Deputy Head of Magical Law Enforcement would force him to remain in the public eye, subject him to intense scrutiny, and require him to socialize with not just Potter but an array of Ministry officials. Even if Hermione agreed to keep their affair secret indefinitely (she wouldn't), he would have to share her with the Ministry. Soon, she would revert to her perfectionist, work-a-holic ways and they would naturally drift apart until it fizzled to nothing. He should just end it now to avoid the inevitable drawn-out disappointment.

Of course, it would be unpleasant to cut her out of his life now. She would not accept anything less than a full discussion. Perhaps he should simply sell the house and disappear. He'd never enjoyed living here anyway. There was one problem, however: he did not want to stop seeing her yet.

It had only been a week. After their first time together on the couch, Severus had imagined he'd have at least a few months of confinement while he waited for his magic to return. Confinement that he had reason to believe would be quite enjoyable with Hermione as a regular visitor. With the unexpectedly swift and complete return of his magic, Severus felt cheated. He hadn't intended to continue the affair beyond his time in hiding, and it was coming to an end far too soon.

A knock on the front door startled Severus out of his thoughts. Hermione opened it and called to him without waiting for an answer. He listened to her footsteps in the hall.

“I'm here,” he said.

“It's so dark in the house, I thought you'd gone to bed early... perhaps that you were ill or something. Are you ill? You don't look well.”

“I'm fine.”

Her face was hard to make out in the shadows but he could tell she did not believe him.

“What's happened?”

He shook his head. He wasn't about to tell her he's gone out flying.

“I believe I have overdone it practicing magic this evening,” he said. “I shall be fine.”

“Here, eat some chocolate,” she said, pulling a piece from her pocket.

She seemed to always have a bit of chocolate somewhere on her person. She sat down and waited as he ate it. The chocolate soon lifted Severus' mood enough for him to stand and pull her into his arms for a kiss.

“Better?” she asked.

They did not spend much time in the kitchen after that – Hermione led him upstairs and whatever lingering unease the chocolate had failed to dissolve was melted away with the pleasure of their bodies meeting once again in Severus' bed.

“I'm glad I came back here tonight,” she said. “Aren't you happy I didn't listen to you and go home?”

“Mmm.”

He would not admit to it. It would have been better for his resolve if she'd stayed away.

“What magic were you doing that made you so miserable?” she asked.

“A number of things,” he said vaguely. “There is one thing I can't practice alone, however.”

“Oh?”

“The Mind Arts,” he said. “Specifically – ”

“Legilimency,” she said, at the same time as Severus.

She shivered against him and pulled the bedclothes over her shoulder.

“You want me to let you into my mind.”

He let the silence drag between them.

“It's not something you'll need to do anymore,” she remarked. “Now that you're no longer a spy.”

“No, but I need... a way to feel like myself again.”

She was silent once more, perhaps thinking that she'd rather he did not become more like his old self at all. Severus knew she would have reservations. He did not expect her to agree to help him with Legilimency.

“You probably shouldn't be telling me about the Legilimency,” she said lightly. “I work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, remember?”

“Indeed. Forget it was said.”

Just like that, he was reminded that they lived deeply incompatible lives. Her warm cheek against his chest seemed to burn his skin. Moments later, after she moved away and fell straight to sleep, Severus lay pondering the future possibilities of a continued affair. He was asleep before he came up with any satisfactory ideas.


	6. Afterthoughts

**Chapter Six: Afterthoughts**

The next morning, Severus came to the decision to wait at least another week. Hermione did not need to know that his magic was as strong as it had ever been. They could exist in the limbo of Spinner's End together a little while longer. After all, she had been prepared to spend months helping him survive without magic. What was one more week?

With such frequent opportunities to practice, their intimate exploits were no longer the needy rush they'd been at first. Severus had spent many years as a young, yearning wizard imagining what it would be like to worship a lover. Despite the cold, calculated persona he'd curated as a spy, Severus always held onto that desire, somewhere deep within himself.

What he had not imagined as a less experienced man, was a witch as bold and unafraid to ask for what she wanted as Hermione. It made teasing her to desperation an absurdly easy task. He imagined, thanks to her failed marriage, she was used to directing a wizard exactly what to do, or else it wouldn't get done. Severus greatly enjoyed subverting – and then exceeding – her expectations. Soon, he was able to anticipate her desires before they were spoken, without using even a hint of Legilimency.

“Severus, please... please...”

He loved to hear her plead for release, and even more to hear the sounds she made when it came.

“I knew it would be like this,” she said, through a sated, languid drawl one night.

“What?”

“I just knew... I knew you'd be great in bed.”

He could not help the smile that formed on his lips at her words.

“How would you know such a thing?”

“I've always known,” she said, eyes closed, smiling to herself.

“ _Always?_ ”

“Well. Ah, not when I was a student. I was too naïve... but there was something about the way you moved, the way you spoke when you were describing something complex, the beautiful detail of your explanations. Something that said, 'this is a passionate, sensuous man'. If I was sat in one of your classes now, I'd be having some very different daydreams.”

“You never daydreamed in class,” he said.

“I would start.”

She seemed to recover from the afterglow of her orgasm and rolled onto her side to look at him.

“You know what? I shouldn't have said that – please don't recall my student days. It's strange to think that you used to be so much older than me.”

“I still am,” he said, and predictably she shook her head.

“I know that is technically correct, but you _aren't_. Severus, your body has not aged in fifteen years and your soul was trapped in a limbo where time did not exist. Your life was paused, that's all. It's amazing, as if you've time traveled.”

“Perhaps I will age more rapidly now to make up for lost time,” Severus mused aloud.

Hermione scoffed and pushed lightly at his bare shoulder.

“Don't say that.”

“It would not be outside the realm of possibility,” he continued.

“Well. So what if you did? It wouldn't change how I feel about you.”

Severus thought his heart might stop. He could not allow her to say more about feelings. Not when this was an affair with an expiration date fast approaching.

She must have read the apprehension in the air between them because she only said, “I'll still want to shag you even if you wake up tomorrow morning with half a head of gray hair. So be ready.”

How many more mornings would he wake up to this wild-haired, warm-eyed witch in his bed, begging him to touch her willing body?

The next morning, after the aforementioned shag, Hermione said, “If it will help I'll let you try Legilimency on me – on the condition that you'll teach me Occlumency first and then Legilimency, too.”

He was genuinely surprised.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you want to learn the Mind Arts?” he asked.

“Why wouldn't I want to learn a new branch of magic? Have you forgotten how much I enjoy learning new things?”

“If you truly wanted to learn, there are ways you could have studied and practiced the Mind Arts before now.”

“True. I was too busy with my career for the past ten years. Between that and the divorce, I didn't have the energy to teach myself anything new. I spent a lot of my free time with Harry trying to figure out how to help you, among the other mysteries Dumbledore left behind.”

Severus was curious about the things Dumbledore left for Potter to find. Surely, it was actually Hermione who was meant to find them – or at least to be there to help Potter riddle it all out. And perhaps, since Severus was one of the riddles, Dumbledore had meant for Severus to help as well. The idea was not something Severus wanted to contemplate.

Despite knowing it would prolong the inevitable, he said, “If you wish to learn, then once I've retrained myself I'll teach you.”

“I'd like that.”

Severus waited until the end of the week to return to the subject of Legilimency. Hermione had been over most evenings, returning to her own home each night – but Friday she stayed until morning. Once again he woke up to her mass of wild hair beside his pillow. As soon as he shifted in the bed, she spoke.

“Good morning.”

She stretched, then pushed herself up on her elbow to look at him. Before he could reply, she straddled him and leaned down for a kiss. Her hair tickled his face, then his chest as she slid down his body. When she took him into her mouth he allowed a small sound of pleasure to escape his lips and she hummed in response. When she climbed back up and impaled herself with a low moan, he echoed her.

Afterward, neither of them ready to leave the bed yet, she cleaned up with a spell and then stretched again and yawned.

“So. What shall we do today? I have no plans.”  
  


He had put it off long enough.

“If you are still willing to help, it is time I attempt Legilimency again.”

“All right.”

So it was that after breakfast Severus and Hermione sat together on the sofa where their affair had begun, and Severus put away his wand. After practicing wandless spells all week, he was certain that he could perform Legilimency without one.

“No wand for Mind Magic?” Hermione asked.

He shook his head.

“Not if you are good at it,” he said. “Before we proceed, you must learn to occlude your mind. Calm and clear your thoughts. Empty yourself of emotion.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. After a few deep breaths, she said, “Okay. What now?”

For the first time since returning to life, Severus reached out with his mind toward another person. He sensed her thoughts murmuring faintly as if crowded into a faraway room with the door cracked open.

“There are a few visualizations that may help. The most common is a wall or a shield. This is the most obvious technique to anyone else capable of Mind Magic. However, it is the easiest way to accustom yourself to the sensation of occluding your mind.”

As he spoke, he gently pressed further into her mind, just far enough to see the bricks materialize into place around her simmering thoughts, effectively and completely silencing them.

“Good,” he said.

“Are you already in my mind?” she asked, and though her voice was calm the surprise was still evident.

“Not yet. I am only at the edge of your thoughts. You have succeeded in keeping your thoughts and emotions from escaping. Most people walk around spilling the contents of their minds in all directions. One does not need to invade a mind to discern the direction of its thoughts.”

“Have you been doing that already? 'Discerning the direction of my thoughts'?”

“No. Keep up your mental shield and listen – feel the space between us. With your own thoughts suppressed you might be able to sense even the low level of Legilimency I am employing at the moment,” he said.

He stopped talking and they sat in silence. After a few minutes, he could feel her mind's presence expand into his tentatively. Severus had never allowed another person to do so – at least, not willingly. It was a strange but pleasant feeling, similar to the feeling of the non-corporeal embrace she'd given him in limbo.

“I think I've got it,” she said.

“It would seem so.”

They each took a few breaths to themselves before Severus continued, “Are you prepared for me to attempt to penetrate your mind?”

She giggled and her mind's calm shattered and swirled out wildly into his as he held his ground with Legilimency.

“Give me a minute,” she said, and composed herself again.

“What else do I need to do?” she asked.

“Nothing more than attempt to hold your mental walls against the invasion,” he said.

“Okay... I'm ready.”

Severus began his attack in the most obvious way. It was actually easier to keep out a direct assault on the mind's defenses, rather than a subtle one. If he'd used his wand it would have been very easy for her, as it was the most blunt way to wield the force of Legilimency.

With little apparent effort, she held her defenses firmly against him. If she was an enemy, there would be ways to break through – ways that might cause irreparable trauma and destroy all trust she had in him. However, even with enemies there were less damaging and more effective means of entering a mind to access well-guarded memories.

“Are you going easy on me?” she asked.

“What you are doing is not easy, Hermione. Your quick success at the Mind Arts suggests you could become adept at Legilimency, if you wished.”

It was the perfect distraction – while she was accepting the well-deserved praise, Severus changed his tactic and eased forward, expanding his mind outward, diluting the force of it. Instead of pushing against the walls around her mind, his let his Mind Magic seep into the cracks and pores of the foundation she'd erected. It was the difference between throwing stones and pouring water.

Severus intended to retreat as soon as he'd successfully bypassed her defenses. However, once he was inside, her thoughts dragged him deeper. She had been suppressing an overwhelming amount of desire for him as they sat together intermingling their minds and their magic. Like a turbulent sea, it took him under and drowned him in a well of hidden emotion behind the wall. Memories swept by him at such a rapid pace he could barely keep up, and the end result was that he felt _too much_ as all the memory-emotions overlapped and intensified. Most of the memories were recent ones of their affair, but there were others also tinged with the same longing and desire and something else...

Severus was suddenly aware of Hermione's mouth on his own, and he wondered how long they'd been snogging. He stayed in her mind, unwilling and perhaps unable to leave yet. She was not fighting him at all. In the interest of the exercise they should stop and regain control of their minds and bodies. Instead, Severus continued to drift through her mind's waves of emotion, letting snapshots of memories daze him, as they tore off their clothes and tried to bring their bodies as close as their minds were in that moment.

It was not until they reached the peak together, their minds enmeshed and clear of all other thoughts, that he realized what it meant. All of the memories he'd seen through the haze of the storm in her mind were either of their relationship since he'd returned from limbo, or of her time spent searching for answers with Potter. She'd spent years seeking a way to reunite his soul with his body and those memories all were infused with the same warm, bittersweet emotion.

Severus held himself over her and stared into her eyes, her muscles still fluttering every few seconds around him as she came down from the climax they'd just reached. Her memories stopped swirling and faded, except for one: Hermione sat reading Severus' old journal, the last one he'd ever kept, a year or so after Lily's death. Tears streaked down memory-Hermione's face.

“I – ”

She was cut off when Severus suddenly withdrew from both her mind and her body, and stood up.

“Where did you find that journal?” he asked, turning around to clean himself off.

He pulled on his trousers, and shivered, then began buttoning his shirt.

“It was one of the things Dumbledore left for Harry to find,” Hermione said.

“Potter's read it too?”

“No. He doesn't know about it, actually. I kept it from him after I read it.”

That was a relief. She redressed herself while Severus sank down onto the sofa.

“You're upset,” she remarked.

He did not know what to feel. All he'd felt since entering her mind were her emotions, not his own, which had remained sealed away in his own mind. Years of self-preservation had taught him well.

Hermione sat down beside him.

“I thought that journal had been lost,” he said. “Destroyed.”

“Oh.”

“I don't know how Albus got it. Perhaps he made a copy, to better read at his leisure and judge whether he was right to trust me.”

She nodded.

“Severus. The memory you saw... it came out because that's when I first began to love you.”

He did not know what to say, so he touched her face and gave her a light kiss on the lips.


End file.
